


Viri Versus the Desert

by RainofAugust



Series: Viri: The Wrath Years [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Drunk!Viri, Gen, Hallucinations, Silly, Tatooine, friendship fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 12:51:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20639465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainofAugust/pseuds/RainofAugust
Summary: Viri accepts a Mandalorian challenge to take poison and find an antidote before it kills her. When the antidote makes her see pink Jawas and talk to rocks, it's up to Vette to get her back to camp somehow. A short friendship fic based on the "Test of the Clan" Imperial quest on Tatooine.





	Viri Versus the Desert

**Author's Note:**

> Set in the first year of Viri's apprenticeship, when she's only known Vette for a few months. 
> 
> There's another Drunk!Viri story in "Sithy Snippets," and since she was so entertaining, and Vette's mentioned this incident in other fics I've written, I decided it needed a full fanfic. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who reads, leaves kudos and comments and shares links to my work. Your support and encouragement makes such a difference for me. Comments are always welcome and appreciated, even if you have found this story years later. :)
> 
> If you are reading this work anywhere other than Ao3, please know that I do not consent to having my works reposted or packaged into apps. Please also know that this work is free to read on Ao3 and I do not approve of or consent to having my works posted behind paywalls or subscriptions.

**Tatooine, 3643 BBY**

Vette blinks rapidly, trying to force her eyes to stay open. It’s blisteringly hot on the desert planet of Tatooine, and it’s hard to stay awake.

Most of the buildings on the Imperial base have cooling systems, but there’s no relief here, in the Mandalorians’ headquarters. They apparently feel that the heat builds character. As Vette stares at their heavy armor, she has to wonder why they haven’t yet passed out. 

She’s been on Tatooine with Viri for a month now. Way too long, in Vette’s estimation. Every horror they’ve seen here has been worse than the last. First, Baras’s assignment, which saw them tangling with a sand demon and Viri’s doppelganger. Second, assistance to the Imperial Reclamation Service, during which they’d had to fight an imprisoned Rakatan and an army of undead Czerka workers. And now this: as they’d been preparing to leave, one of the moffs had noticed Viri and requested her assistance at this forsaken outpost. 

It’s happened everywhere they’ve visited, Vette muses. Viri goes somewhere, does exemplary work, and gets waylaid by every Imperial officer and Sith on the planet who needs help. Her stock is rising, even though she’s a mere apprentice. And it might be her imagination - it might be a misunderstanding of Sith cues - but Darth Baras does not seem pleased with Viri’s growing popularity. 

Vette forces herself to focus on the conversation happening in the Mandalorians’ meeting room. Viri is leaning against the desk, indolently crossing her arms, her face fixed into its usual blank mask. It’s a frightening look, and Vette is acutely aware that Viri deliberately cultivates it. 

The Mandalorian leader, Roggar Den, is not pleased with Viri. “You and your Imperials have our cooperation. But not our respect.” 

Viri raises her eyebrows. “I recovered your fallen warriors from the desert. Your own people couldn’t manage that.” 

Den scowls. “That may be the case. But how far will you take this? Carrying some corpses and using a lightsaber is not enough to earn our respect. I would give you a real trial.” 

Viri raises her eyebrows and waits. 

Roggar Den opens a drawer in his desk and extracts an injection gun. “This is a lethal poison. If you inject it, you will have about twenty minutes to trek into the Sand People’s territory and find the hut with the antidote. It is how warriors prove their worth here.” 

”Have you done it?” Viri asks archly. 

Roggar pulls back the bracer and sleeve of his armor to reveal a small scar on his left arm. “Yes. You check any warrior in this compound. They have all been through the trial.” 

”Can I bring a second?” 

”You may. Our warriors do. The seconds are the ones who report back when the warriors fall. You will also have a map. So you will perform the trial?” 

Viri grits her teeth. “If I do, will you cooperate with the Imperial officers on this base?” 

”Yes, because you will have proved that there is an Imperial worthy of respect here.” 

“You don’t have to do this,” Vette whispers desperately, eying the injector as Viri takes it from Roggar. 

”I know I don’t,” Viri says imperiously. “I’m not going to have this Mandalorian implying that I am weak.” 

”I know you’re not weak, you know you’re not weak, and all the Jedi and Czerka zombies on Tatooine you have killed know you’re not weak,” Vette tries. “You’re Sith. You can tell them what to do. Isn’t that enough?” 

”It’s about honor,” Viri explains. 

”The Sith is correct,” Roggar Den says, crossing his arms. He nods approvingly as Viri injects herself and hands a datapad to Vette. “Here is your map. You have about twenty minutes before the poison reaches her brain. Go.” 

_Damn it, Viri. This is so stupid._ Vette shakes her head as she follows Viri out of the Mandalorians’ headquarters. As soon as they step outside the blazing sunlight hits them both, and they shudder and put on their sunshades. 

”It doesn’t look far,” Viri says, studying the map as they run, “but I am going to guess that there’s a catch to that.” 

”You think?” Vette says sardonically, as they leave the base. The map takes them into a ravine, where the rocks climb high into steep cliff walls. They follow the trail through one switchback and another, and find themselves confronted with one Sand People patrol after the next. 

”This is the catch. We need to move,” Vette mutters, dispatching a Sand Person brandishing a blaster at her. 

”I’m working as fast as I can,” Viri answers, telekinetically shoving several more Sand People out of her way. 

Vette and Viri continue along the cliff wall, fighting Sand People patrols. Vette cannot help but notice that Viri’s steps are getting slower; that her lightsaber sweeps don’t seem as accurate. As they round a corner and then another, Viri rubs her forehead. 

”It’s kicking in, isn’t it?” Vette says, eyeing her uneasily. 

”Yeah,” Viri gasps. “It’s kriffing painful.” 

”I didn’t tell you to do this,” Vette snaps. 

”Too late to regret it,” Viri mutters. “Look, we’re almost there.” 

Sure enough, at the top of the slope, a modest Sand People hut has been built next to the cliffside. Two Mandalorian warriors lean against the exterior, silently watching them approach. 

”Thank the Force,” Vette murmurs, as they approach the hut. ”Please don’t tell us that Viri has to fight you right now.”

”Getting here was the fight,” one of the warriors laughs, tossing a syringe to Vette. “And with four minutes to spare. Good job.” 

Viri grits her teeth as she injects herself, and the Mandalorians chuckle. “It’s got a bit of a kick, that antidote.” 

”What now?” Viri asks. 

”Go back to the base and rest. You’ll need to sleep it off. But you’ve passed the trial,” one of the warriors replies, activating his holo. “Roggar? The Sith did it.” 

”Excellent,” Den says, clapping his hands. “You have proved your worth, Sith. We will see you back at camp tomorrow.” 

”Thank you,” Viri says, walking out of the hut. The way down the hill is clear, but Viri stumbles again and again. Finally she stops, leaning against the rock wall. 

”My lord?” Vette asks.

”I…my head…” Viri rubs her forehead again. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, but the ground is spinning…” 

”Sit down,” Vette says, rushing to her side and opening their bag of supplies. “Here, have some water.” 

“Thanks,” Viri says, gulping the water. When she looks up at Vette again, her eyes are pinned. 

”Oh shit, your eyes look weird. How do you feel?” 

”Great,” Viri says, tipping back her head. “Amazing. Fantastic. Cool.” 

“You’re slurring your words.” 

”So are you,” Viri answers, blinking and letting her head loll from side to side. 

”We need to get you home,” Vette says, rising again. Viri tries to follow her lead, but she staggers. When she starts to walk, her steps are unsteady. 

”Hello. What are you selling?” Viri says, kneeling next to a rock. “What a pretty robe you have.” 

”My…lord?” Vette says cautiously. “Who are you talking to?” 

Viri scowls at her. “Surely you see I’m trying to negotiate with this Jawa.”

”There’s no Jawa,” Vette says, raising an eyebrow. 

”How can you miss her, with her pink robes?! Yes, I’d like two…” Viri fumbles in her pocket for credits. 

”I’ll pay the Jawa for you, give me the credits,” Vette says, surreptitiously stuffing the money back into Viri’s pocket and looping one arm around Viri’s waist. “Come on. Let’s go home and have a nice nap.” 

Viri stumbles as they walk, almost knocking over Vette again and again. Vette grits her teeth, struggling to keep her upright. As they leave the valley and return to the open dunes, Viri’s feet shuffle through the sand as she staggers. 

”You have to do this,” Vette tries, letting Viri lean on her. A steady pain begins to creep up Vette’s back. The Sith she is carrying is far taller and heavier than she is, and they only make it a few meters before Vette has to let go of Viri. As soon as Vette releases her waist, Viri stumbles and falls face down, out cold. 

”Viri, you have to get up! I can’t carry you…” Vette says desperately. If anyone were to come along now they’d both be dead, and she knows it. A Sand Person, a Jedi, a pirate…

“Nnnn,” Viri mumbles, and buries her head in her arms. 

“Damn it, I’m not dying out here and neither are you! Get up! Oh no…” Vette kicks Viri slightly, and before she can catch the Sith, Viri has tumbled down the dune. She lands in a heap at the bottom, throwing sand and laughing uproariously. 

”As long as this is fun for you,” Vette says drily. On any other day, the sight of a Sith laughing until tears fell from her eyes might have greatly amused her, but she’s far too sunburned and her back is hurting too much to care. 

”Again!” Viri shrieks, holding her stomach as she shakes with mirth. 

”You liked that? We can do it again if we get you up to the top of the next dune! Come on!” Vette scurries - as fast as her sore back will allow - to the top of the dune, beckoning to Viri to follow her. Viri does, and then throws herself down the hill, screaming with laughter all the while. 

“I wish I’d thought of this a kilometer ago,” Vette mutters, coaxing Viri to the summit of the next dune. “Come on, Viri! Up we go! Now down the hill! Wheee!” 

When the Imperial base finally comes into view, Vette grabs Viri by the back of her belt again. Nobody on the base can see Viri’s antics, and she knows it. 

”There’s another dune!” Viri cries, trying to run up it. Vette grits her teeth and holds on to Viri’s belt. Luckily, in her inebriated state, she’s too unsteady to truly break away. 

”Those dunes are infested with…um…evil womp rats. Can’t you see them?” Vette says delicately. “You don’t want them to bite you, do you?”

”Where are they?” Viri says, drawing her lightsaber. She wrenches away from Vette and starts slashing at the dune. “Come out, you monsters! Fight me!” 

”They saw you and ran away,” Vette says wearily. “But the dunes are now…um…poisoned.” 

”They don’t look poisoned.” 

”It’s invisible,” Vette says seriously. “Come away. We’re almost back to the base.” 

”If you insist,” Viri says sourly, allowing Vette to put one hand around her waist. Vette struggles to keep her upright. It is only when they are safely inside the cantina, walking down the corridor to their room, that she allows Viri to stagger again. 

”Had too much to drink, did she?” the bartender laughs as they pass by. 

”They serve good rum here,” Vette says, winking. “She’s enjoyed it.” 

”Sleep it off, Sith,” the bartender chuckles. 

Once they are inside the room, Vette shoves Viri in the general direction of her bed while she locks the door. When the security system is set, she rolls her eyes to discover that Viri is half on the mattress and half on the floor. 

“Get into bed, you jerk,” Vette mutters, throwing Viri’s legs onto the mattress, unfastening her boots and tossing them into the corner. A small cloud of sand puffs up as they hit the floor. Viri’s hair and robes are completely coated in sand, and Vette doesn’t even try to address it. She simply pulls a blanket over Viri. Viri is already out cold, and Vette rolls her eyes as she turns away. The sharp pain in her back is not going away, and she limps over to her own bed. As soon as she hits the mattress she is asleep herself. 

*

“Vette…?” Viri’s voice is hoarse and low. Their hotel room in the cantina is dark, and she can barely make out the prone shape of Vette on the adjacent bed. As she sits up, sand falls in her eyes. Her hair is coated with it, and she leans over the side of the mattress to shake it out onto the floor. Her head feels like it is underwater, and she’s groggy and unsteady. Still, she turns on the light to check on Vette. 

”What the…oh, you’re up.” Vette blinks in the light of the room and scowls at Viri. 

”What happened?” 

”You did the stupid clan ritual. You found the poison antidote and totally checked out,” Vette grumbles. As she sits up, she winces. 

”You’re hurt,” Viri says. “Who attacked you?!”

”Nobody attacked me,” Vette says, rolling her eyes. “I had to carry you part of the way and you aren’t exactly light. I threw my back out.” 

”I’m sorry,” Viri says, getting up and crouching next to Vette’s bed. “Where does it hurt?” 

”What are you going to do, Doctor Sith?” Vette growls. “Look. Let me sleep it off. You did your ritual, the Mandalorians think you’re worthy of respect, whatever.” 

”I can help you,” Viri insists. “Let me try.” 

”How?” 

”Like this,” Viri says, channeling the Force into a healing field. Her hands glow red as she directs the Force toward Vette’s back, healing it from neck to hip. 

Vette’s eyes open wide. “You…my back feels better. Are you actually healing it or is that a Sith painkiller or…” 

”I’m healing it,” Viri says, concentrating harder. “Can you tell me where it hurts most?” 

”Um…near my shoulders,” Vette says, dumbfounded. “I didn’t know you could do that.” 

”We don’t just learn to kill things, you know,” Viri says wryly. The healing field is helping her own head clear. 

Vette wiggles her shoulders. “They feel…fine. Damn. That’s a good trick.” 

”It’s one of the nicer ones,” Viri smiles. “I’m sorry if I gave you a hard time. I didn’t know the antidote would do that.” 

“That’s why you never drink or use battle stims, isn’t it? You can’t,” Vette says shrewdly. 

“No use denying it.” 

”Never thought a Sith would be a lightweight,” Vette laughs. 

”I’m just a person. Not every person handles alcohol or drugs well,” Viri shrugs. “I’ll trust you to keep that information to yourself.”

“Your secret is safe with me, although it’s hilarious.” 

”I’d probably think so too, if it weren’t about me. Anyway, thank you for getting me back here safely,” Viri pauses. “You could have left me in the desert and walked away.” 

”Why would I have done that? We’re friends,” Vette says, her nostrils flaring. As she says the words, she stops. They’re true, she realizes. They _are_ friends. 

”Really?” 

”Yes. I never thought I’d be friends with a Sith,” Vette reflects. “But I like you. You’re as weird as they come. That’s a compliment.” 

”Likewise,” Viri says. “I’m glad.” 

”Friends or not, if you _ever_ consider doing another poison ritual I’m going to clonk you on the head.” 

”Fair enough,” Viri laughs, standing up. As she does, sand cascades from her robes. “What did I do, roll in the dunes?!” 

”Yes. You found it highly amusing.” 

”Are you joking?” 

”I wish I were. You were talking to rocks, thinking they were pink Jawas, and I got you to stay away from a dune by telling you it was poisoned.” 

”Stars,” Viri says, rubbing her head. “Were we supposed to talk to those Mandalorians again?” 

”They’re expecting us in the morning,” Vette says, eyeing the chrono on the bedside table. “We have time to rest up.” 

”Smart idea,” Viri says, looking back toward her bed, and blanching when she sees that it is covered in sand. “Except my bed is a mess.” 

”Come on, we’ll shake out the sheets,” Vette says, getting out of her own bed. “I’ll help you.” 

Vette and Viri take the sheets off Viri’s bed, bring them to the trash can at the side of the room, and begin shaking all the sand into the bin. 

”The glamorous life of a Sith,” Vette laughs. 

”Indeed,” Viri smiles. “This is what I aspired to when I left Korriban.” 

”It’s better than dealing with Baras,” Vette retorts, and then freezes. Viri has never shared an opinion on her master. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.” 

”Why apologize? You’re right,” Viri says. “I’m sure you fully understand that I need to be careful about what I say, but we’re on the same page.” 

”I thought we might have been,” Vette says softly. “But I wasn’t sure…” 

”You’re my friend. You know me,” Viri winks, and helps Vette shake the sand from the rest of the sheets.


End file.
